


Life is just a Ferris wheel

by Bandsx_xbands



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Carnival, Fluff, M/M, Not literally, Pete is a child, Peterick, but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandsx_xbands/pseuds/Bandsx_xbands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick visit the Chicago Carnival, Pete tends to be more of a child than a grown man, Patrick gets sick of his shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is just a Ferris wheel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kxllington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxllington/gifts).



> angelofthedamnlord and I decided to come up with a plot idea and then write it for different ships. You should go read theirs, it's a Trohley fic.

Rose skies surrounded them, with the sun preparing to set. The bright lights were easily visible from the car.

Pete climbed out of the passenger seat, really excitedly for a 36 year old man. 

“Pete, honey, are you okay?” Patrick said, jokingly yet still a bit serious. 

“Yeah! I'm more than okay. I haven't been to a carnival in FOREVER.”

“Well, it makes me happy to see you happy.”

Pete smiled at his charming boyfriend, taking Patrick's hand in his own.

They strolled up, swinging their held hands high in the air, to the gate with a neon sign saying, ‘CHICAGO CARNIVAL’, that was now in front of them. Pete pulled out his leather wallet, picking out a $20 bill, handing the money to the ticket holder. Both let go of each other’s hands and put them out, so the middle-aged man could stamp them with the blue ink.

They joined hands once again as they walked into the crowded fairgrounds.

“Patrick! Patrick! Can we go on the ferris wheel? Please! Pretty please!” Pete begged, sounding more like a 5 year old with every word. 

“Yes, Pete,” Patrick said, knowing this made him jumpy, “we can go on the ferris wheel.”

Pete dashed to the line, dragging Patrick behind him, who reached up to prevent his fedora from falling off his head.

“Next!” The person watching the gates yelled. Pete and Patrick walked up the steps.

“M’lady,” Pete gestured to Patrick, who was giving him the you're-an-idiot look he often got.

Patrick took his seat, followed by Pete. The ride started and went up and around a couple times before stopping at the top. 

“The lights look really pretty tonig-,” Patrick started, before the seat started to rock back and forth.

“Pete.”

“Yeah,” Pete responded, but Patrick could tell he wasn't really listening.

Pete kept leaning back and forth, making the seat swing more.

“Pete, just stay still.”

“You scared?” Pete said, a little tauntingly, kinda pushing Patrick's nerves.

“Well, to be honest, I don't want to die from falling off a ferris wheel, Pete, so yeah,” Patrick was becoming more anxious and panic was beginning to show in his voice.

“Come on, Patrick,” the blond said, still rocking forward and backwards, “live a little.” The next swing almost knocking Patrick's fedora clean off his head.

“Pete,” Patrick now had a death grip, with his right hand on the handle and his left on Pete’s arm.

“Look, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make this fun.”

“Dying is not fun!”

“We're not going to die!”

The ride had begun moving again and Patrick sighed a little in relief. They stopped at the spot where they first got on. Patrick stood up as soon as all the safety precautions were removed. He walked down the steps. Pete stood up, but didn't move. He had his eye on Patrick as he walk away. He knew he was upset.

“Sir,” the ride keeper stood looking at Pete. He came out of his train of thought.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he stumbled on his words as he started down the steps.

He went after Patrick, weaving his way through the crowd. Patrick was short, so things like these tend to be more difficult tasks than what’s anticipated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bright red cardigan and a black fedora, which Pete couldn't mistake for anyone else.

He ran towards him.

“Patrick? Can we talk?”

“What Pete?” He answered, with annoyance in his voice and his gaze not focused on Pete. The blond knew he didn't like being mad.

“I'm sorry...again. I didn't want to scare you.”

“I know you didn't, but you know things like this freak me out.”

“I know and I'm really, really sorry,” he stood there feeling guilty. “We could go over to the duck-squirting-thingie and I could win you one of those giant teddy bears,” Pete smiled, trying to act all cutesy so Patrick might forgive him. 

When they fought, the fights usually didn't last long because Patrick always fell for the pouty face Pete always made. 

Patrick gaze was still avoiding Pete. 

“I'll get you the baby blue coloured one,” Pete said, making Patrick give in to his adorableness.

“You also have to buy me a blueberry slushie.”

“Anything for my sunshine angel,” he pulled Patrick in and put his arm around him, while Patrick sunk his head onto Pete's shoulder as they begun walking.

After several seconds that felt like an eternity, Patrick lifted his head.

“What do you want to do after you get me that bear?”

“Whatever you want,” said Pete, putting emphasis on every word.

\---

Patrick now had his bear, and already drank his slushie.

“I have to use the washroom, I'll be one second babe,” Pete said, rushing off to use the utilities.

Patrick stood there waiting, swinging the bear around. The tag had then caught his eye. He opened it to a short note.

Maul the world like a carnival bear set free.  
Love, Pete.

Patrick couldn't control the smile spreading across his face. 

Pete had now finished and was walk-jogging towards him. Patrick let go of the tag, and used his left hand to carry the bear. 

“Shall we go?” he said, reaching his right hand out and taking Pete's left.

“We shall,” Pete responded, with a grin.

The two started walking towards the exit, hand in hand.


End file.
